If Only He Knew It
by Till-Owlyglass
Summary: A simple bargain and Camelot gets a great warrior and Gawain gets to read his book. No complications. Easy. Kay/Gawain


**If Only He Knew It**

"_You were right about him: he'd be perfect. If only he knew it." _Kay hadn't chosen those particular words by accident. He saw immediately that Gawain was a proud man, but a proud man with a mission: to be better. It hadn't taken Gawain long to make up his mind and come running after them. He spoke only to Kay as he struck his bargain, _"If I did come, one condition. You teach me how to read this book." _That was it, they both saw the other as a means to an end. So Kay put on a smile and said with confidence, _"By the time we're finished at Camelot, you'll be ready to write a book!"_ A simple bargain and Camelot gets a great warrior and Gawain gets to read his book. No complications. Easy.

* * *

Kay became an enigma to him, a source of limitless knowledge and someone to be looked up to. Of course, Gawain would never admit this to anyone - no, he hid his thoughts beneath his bravado and his arrogance. Every time he instructed Kay to attack him during training, every time he knocked him to the ground or cut him open, he was hiding his admiration for Kay. _"Again. Again. Attack me again. You're too soft, boy. You'll win no wars fighting like that_._"_ Gawain bullied and mocked him just as he did the other men, but all the while he was hissing inside: _I want to be you. I want to be better. I want to be perfect._

* * *

Kay noticed that Gawain seemed to pick on him especially, calling on him more than the others to use as an example in some fighting technique or another - it didn't matter whether it was defence or attack, either way Kay always came off worse. He assumed it was because the reading lessons weren't going so well.

They would meet in the library as often as they could - it still felt strange to Kay being there, surrounded by his family's old books and knowing that they had outlasted his parents - Gawain would read aloud slowly and Kay would correct him when he faltered. As time went on, Kay noticed that the other man would become increasingly flustered every time he stumbled over a word, gradually becoming more and more frustrated with himself. Finally, Kay had informed him gently that it was pointless getting upset with himself and that he was making excellent progress; Gawain had responded by flinging the book into a corner and stalking from the room. As he bent to retrieve the book and straightened its crushed pages, it occurred to Kay that most probably Gawain felt insecure here in the library during their reading lessons, and thus felt the need to boost his own confidence by making a fool of Kay in the place where he was the more talented one: the training ground.

* * *

A day later the men were assembled in the courtyard and listening as Gawain lectured them that a sword was not merely a blade and how they should make use of it as a whole. Once again, he decided to use Kay as his opponent in the demonstration. Kay was wary, after Gawain's outburst the day before he presumed the other man would be hell-bent on asserting his dominance again, but Gawain merely looked at him expectantly, waiting for the oncoming attack.

Kay lunged forward but Gawain deflected his sword with a movement which was almost lazy. He tried again but this time Gawain shifted a little to the right, letting Kay's sword sail straight past his left side, he then clamped his left arm down, trapping Kay's arm and causing him to stumble forward, whereupon Gawain jabbed him swift and hard in the face with the handle of his sword.

Kay cried out. A spray of blood arced across the yard. Gawain released him and he reeled backwards, pressing a hand to his nose from which thick, hot blood was flowing freely, spilling down his face and staining his white linen shirt. Childish tears stung his eyes, partly from the pain and partly from the humiliation. He turned and strode quickly away through the stable doors lest anyone should see them.

Gawain began explaining how what he had just done enforced his point when Leontes walked forward and interrupted.

"You drew Kay's blood. You should apologise." the champion said.

"You expect me to apologise for a little spilled blood? This is a training ground not a kitchen, how do you expect to learn to be real warriors if you insist on fighting so tamely?"

"You can either apologise to Kay now by your own free will, or wait until later when the King orders you to do so in front of everyone."

"I shouldn't have to apologise at all! You brought me here to teach you how to fight, it's not my fault if the boy can't take in what I'm saying and lets himself get beaten!"

Leontes took a step closer to Gawain and said in a low voice, "You've been picking on Kay for weeks now. Hitting him in the face like that was unnecessary and without honour. Apologise."

Gawain rolled his eyes and muttered sulkily to himself but, nevertheless, sheathed his sword and sloped into the stables after Kay.

The stables were quiet. Shafts of sunlight streamed in from the high windows, landing in squares interspaced on the floor, everywhere not painted in bright yellow sunlight seemed startlingly gloomy. The horses paced restlessly in their stalls, troubled by the smell of blood. Gawain squinted and finally spotted Kay on the other side of the long room, he started towards him.

Kay had removed his shirt and was standing with his back to Gawain, leaning over a barrel of water. His shoulder blades stuck up beneath the pale flesh of his back, as sharp as any blade Gawain had ever wielded. Gawain watched them shift and stretch the skin as he moved his arms, cupping the water in his hands and splashing it up over his bare chest where the blood had seeped through the thin material of his shirt. After a couple of seconds, he sensed someone behind him and looked over his shoulder, a smear of crimson blood remained on his upper lip, it had mostly crusted over but still glistened in some places. For a moment Kay looked slightly petulant upon realising it was Gawain, the source of his injury, standing behind him. Without a word, he sniffed once then brushed past Gawain and outside, pulling on his shirt as he went. Gawain watched him leave, watched again how his shoulder blades moved beneath his skin, this time in the action of pulling his shirt over his head. Then they were gone, disappeared with his pale skin beneath the equally pale material of the shirt.

* * *

That evening, when Gawain went to his room after dinner, he found that Kay had returned his book to him, placing it on his pillow. He sat upon the bed and held the book in his hands, thoughtfully running his fingers over the soft leather cover, cracked and battered with age. He came to the conclusion that Leontes was right, the way he was treating Kay was indeed without honour. It was unfair that he had resorted to bullying the boy to hide what he truly felt: his jealousy, his admiration, his feeling of humiliating inferiority. Kay was a good man and a patient teacher, the first person in Gawain's life who actually believed in him and encouraged him to do something - by rights, he deserved Gawain's gratitude instead of his taunts and jibes. But right now, what he really deserved was an apology. Throwing the book down upon the bed, he decided he would go directly to Kay's room and make his long overdue apology.

When he reached Kay's door Gawain found himself hesitating. He really should have thought about and prepared about what he was going to say before turning up unannounced - but then, Gawain never had been a one for forethought, he was always a 'delve straight in and deal with the consequences later' kind of person. He raised his hand and rapped upon the door.

"Come in." Kay's voice on the other side of the wood called out.

At first Kay looked a little taken aback when Gawain sloped nervously into the room, but the expression only lasted for a fleeting second.

"Gawain." he said simply by way of greeting, his voice holding no tone of resentment or contempt. Gawain smiled wryly to himself, as usual, Kay could be counted on not to hold a grudge.

"I'd like to apologise for hitting you during training today. Leontes tells me I have been treating you rather unfairly of late and he is right. I am sorry."

"Thank you. I accept your apology." Kay extended his hand, "No grudges, eh?"

Gawain grinned, "No grudges." he replied, taking the other man's hand. As their skin touched, Gawain experienced an unusual feeling rising in his chest, an urge to never let go of the soft warm hand clasped in his own calloused battle-scarred one. Unconsciously, he tightened his grip. Kay fixed him with a strange look. Suddenly a rush of images appeared at the forefront of his mind; a memory of hot crimson blood spilling upon smooth pale skin, Kay's thin wrists as he cleaned his sword, sharp pointed shoulder blades moving beneath a canvas of white back, Kay biting his lip as he leant over to check which word Gawain had stumbled over this time.

"Take your clothes off." Gawain growled, without thinking. Kay's mouth fell open and he blinked repeatedly in astonishment. Gawain was appalled. Where the hell did that come from? He began to stammer, trying to offer up some rational explanation for his behaviour. But of course it was all futile. The fact of the matter was, he had just very clearly ordered Kay to remove his clothes.

Kay dropped his hand and took a step backwards, his mouth still agape. Then, to Gawain's infinite surprise, he began to unfasten the buckles on his leather jerkin. After removing the garment and discarding it upon the floor, he then pulled his shirt over his head and started on the fastenings at the front of his trousers.

Gawain somehow managed to find his voice, "Kay?"

"This is what you want isn't it?" Kay said, not lifting his head, his attention focused on undoing his belt, "Well, I want it too. Take your clothes off."

Gawain didn't need to be told a second time, with fingers shaking with excitement, he removed his own jerkin and shirt, baring his naked torso which bore the scars of countless past battles. Kay's trousers fell in a bundle at his feet and he stepped out of them, leaving them on the floor where they lay.

Kay stood naked, his pale boyishly thin body completely exposed, making him feel defenceless and somewhat younger. Gawain stepped forward, reaching out and brushing a thumb over Kay's flat nipples which puckered at his touch. Goosebumps erupted over Kay's body as Gawain's fingers ghosted over the tender skin of his chest and abdomen. He found it extraordinary that a man as powerful as Gawain could be capable of such gentleness.

Gawain stepped closer and Kay stiffened as the other man brushed his lips softly against his for a fleeting second before pulling away.

"I-I've never kissed a man before." Kay stammered.

"And you think _I_ have?" Gawain said, one corner of his mouth rising in a wry crooked smirk. Kay laughed nervously at this and, for a moment which seemed to stretch for considerably longer than any moment should, they merely stood; Kay shivering in nervous anticipation and Gawain scrutinising him with eyes that reminded Kay of thunder, so full of darkness and writhing chaos as they were.

Then, in a sudden flurry of movement, Gawain lurched forward, tangling his fingers amongst the tousled brown curls at the back of Kay's skull and tugging on them, causing Kay's head to be wrenched violently back and thus offering his face up to Gawain and exposing the vulnerable flesh of his throat. Kay cried out in shock and indignation at being handled so, but the sound was soon distorted into a groan as Gawain feasted upon the pale skin of his throat, sharp white teeth biting the soft white skin unmercifully.

Gawain lifted his head and focused his attentions on Kay's plump lips, which to Kay felt strangely more sensitive than usual - so sensitive, in fact, that they positively tingled. He alternated between nipping savagely at Kay's quivering lips then scattering them with gentle little kisses as though soothing their pain after the vicious assaults of bites; he even went as far as to touch them with the pointed tip of his tongue, as if savouring their taste. When they finally broke apart, Kay's lips were swollen and bruised and burning.

"Touch me." Gawain panted, his tongue darting out to run over his lips. Tentatively, Kay reached up and traced a finger across a pearly white scar which slanted diagonally down from Gawain's collarbone and across the left side of his chest, slicing his nipple almost in half. Kay ran his tongue slowly down the length of the scar, paying particular attention to what remained of his nipple - once this had been one of the most sensitive parts of his body, now it was almost ruined. He did the same to Gawain's intact right nipple, causing the other man to hiss as he flicked it slightly with the tip of his tongue.

With a growl, Gawain pushed Kay backward until he fell sprawled upon the bed with Gawain kneeling above him. Gawain's hands were everywhere; caressing, nipping, scratching. He took Kay's manhood in his hand and stroked until Kay was hard and writhing beneath him. He began to kiss down the younger man's chest and stomach, stopping when he reached Kay's navel.

Kay's hips began to instinctively thrust upwards and Gawain grinned wickedly, "Beg me. You're going to have to beg me to get what you want."

"Oh, please. Please, Gawain, please. Don't stop there. Gawain. Keep going. Don't stop. Please." Kay prattled, arching his body as he strained his hips upwards.

"Tell me what you want me to do." Gawain commanded firmly, slowly lowering his lips to the thin trail of hair on Kay's stomach which led southward to the place where Kay ached to be touched.

Kay locked eyes with the man kneeling between his legs and he said quietly, "I want you to take my cock in your mouth. I want you to suck me."

It was all Kay could do not to scream when Gawain's mouth descended on his cock. Initially, Gawain merely circled his tongue around the head, slowly, teasingly. When Kay began tugging at his hair and scratching at his shoulders, he began licking down the length in long, gut-wrenching strokes. It was only when Kay began to make pathetic little whimpering sounds and was practically sobbing that he took the full thing in his mouth and started up a regular rhythm.

Kay relaxed a little and bunched some of the blanket beneath him in his fists, watching through heavy-lidded eyes as Gawain's head bobbed up and down between his legs, groaning as Gawain's tongue swiped over the head of his cock every time his mouth ascended. The other man's name never left his lips, he chanted it repeatedly, like a mantra or a prayer, gradually getting louder and louder as he neared his completion.

Gawain had to reach up and force three fingers into Kay's mouth when his cries of pleasure were on the verge of turning to screams, the corridors of Camelot were hardly ever empty and the last thing they needed was someone to overhear. It only took one more swirl of his tongue to cause Kay to explode in his mouth, biting down on his fingers as he came.

Kay lay panting for air, a riot of colours flashing in his eyes. He was dimly aware of Gawain crawling up his body and settling down next to him, but it was a few minutes before he fully regained his senses and turned to look at him.

"Enjoy that, did you?" Gawain asked, one of his trademark crooked smirks plastered over his face. Kay nodded fiercely.

"Good. Well, everyone knows how intelligent you are, they're all used to the smart things which pass these lips. But why don't we find out if your mouth is clever in _other ways_?" Gawain grinned, reaching out to brush his fingers over Kay's lips. Kay saw red dribbling down Gawain's knuckles and it was only then that he realised that he had bitten Gawain's fingers so hard in his ecstasy that they were bleeding.

"Oh. Sorry."

"It's fine." Gawain replied, bringing his fingers to his mouth to suck away the blood, "Come on then, show me how clever you are."

Kay blushed and rolled over to straddle Gawain's legs, an irrepressible grin plastering over his face as he busied himself undoing the laces at the front of Gawain's trousers.

* * *

**A/N:**

**This is the first time I have ever tried to write smut. So...yeah, I hope it isn't terrible. This has been a work in progress for the better part of a year and it was only now that I actually built up the courage to complete and post it. It's just a shame really that the Camelot fandom is pretty much dead due to the series being cancelled. Anyway, thanks for reading!**


End file.
